I'd be really psyched about it
by CrackersKay
Summary: "I'd be really psyched about it." He said these very words about two years ago, but Carly doesn't know if he still would be. Somehow he seems like he has moved on, but sometimes he says he hasn't. Carly is leaving for Italy soon and she needs to tell him something, and fast. What will she do and how will he react?


"_I'd be really psyched about it."_

I can see him over there, tickling Sam on the neck and blowing raspberries at her. What happened to him? Was he brainwashed or was he just scared if he said no to her, she'd brutally harm him.

"_I'd be really psyched about it."_

How did this happen? How did _I _let this happen? This never should have been. I should have come clean to him the day of the overnight school projects. Why did he forget that I told him I needed to tell him something? He walked off to find Sam I think, and when I eventually found him, it was too late.

"_I'd be really psyched about it."_

They keep on fighting a lot. It brings great satisfaction to me although I try not to show it. Last night I lost it at Pini's though, so I left and I don't know what happened. They're late for iCarly rehearsals. Again.

"_I'd be really psyched about it."_

Guilty. Somehow I believe it's my fault they broke up. Apparently they overheard my little lecture with Spencer and his ex-babysitter. I can't help feeling lifted, and sometimes when we're at school and doing iCarly, I think I'm a little _too _perky.

"_I'd be really psyched about it."_

Sam's back to insulting him again. Gibby's relieved. A lot. I'm confused about what to do. I can't just come clean about my feelings only two weeks after they've broken up. Sam would probably break _me! _

"_I'd be really psyched about it."_

I had to lie to some cute boy today that I wasn't interested in our tech producer one bit. Lying hurts. All mega iCarly fans were at web-icon today. Sam told the whole of the audience that me and…_tech boy _are a thing; and item; madly in love. He denied it many times. It made my heart break. Adam the cute boy left eventually but I really didn't care.

"_I'd be really psyched about it."_

There's nothing I can do now. In twenty minutes I'll be leaving for Italy. He thinks that I'm leaving because my Dad said there'd be cute boys there but that's not it. That is definitely not it. It's so I can try and get over him after all these long years, and also so I can spend more time with my Dad in Italy. I have to leave iCarly though.

"_I'd be really psyched about it."_

He's standing there packing away his equipment and I don't know what to do. Should I tell him or leave it. I don't know. He's spotted me. "Hey." He says. I nod in response. "You don't have to pack away all your equipment tonight." That sounded stupid. There was an edge to his voice when he spoke about something to do with weasels and Gibby. _Tell him! _My mind is yelling at me now. He's started talking again in that edgy tone. Or, I could just show him. My hand found his. Almost immediately he stopped talking. He looked up at me, his eyes shining. Something tells me he believes I am going to Italy for the boys. I need to tell him now and fast. Without warning I lean in and kiss him. At first he just stands there mesmerised but then puts his hand on my hip. I move my hand to his shoulder then finally pull apart. We look at each other awkwardly, then smile and leave the room. He thinks I didn't notice him lifting his arms up in triumph but I did.

"_I'd be really psyched about it."_

I don't want to leave now but I have to. Sam, Spencer, Gibby and Dad would wonder why and start asking questions. The elevator doors are open. My Dad gets in and says he'll meet me down there. The boys and I all do a group hug to the elevator and then eventually let go. Sam says she'll come with me to the bottom. "I love you guys." I stutter, catching his eye. "Love you too" he states. And I think he always will.

"_I'd be really psyched about it."_

Italy is amazing. Especially the sun. Definitely not like Seattle. I'm just sat on my bed bored. I have an urge to text him. I find his name in the contacts and click new message: "When I get back in about a year, will you, um, go out with me Freddie?" Instantly I press send so I can't change my mind. Dad already set up my phone to work here, and for American's to get a message in about twenty minutes. I'm not leaving this spot until I get a reply. It's nineteen minutes and 11 seconds; I get his reply: "Carly, I'd be really psyched about it."


End file.
